


Fistful of Dollars

by Bebe_Effie



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Blow Jobs, Glory Hole, Kinktober 2020-2021, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29816184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bebe_Effie/pseuds/Bebe_Effie
Summary: Arthur doesn't think much about the tear in his tent - not until he finds another use for it, at least.--He blows a dude through a hole in his tent for $20 : )
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	Fistful of Dollars

**Author's Note:**

> Short and to the point. Finished this one a while ago, I'm only uploading it now SKJSKS
> 
> This was meant for Kinktober 2020, but I'm lumping it in with 2021, too <3

Arthur noticed that he’d somehow torn part of his tent that morning, but wasn’t all too bothered. He’d just ask Grimshaw if she could help him sew it back together when he got back to camp. Until then, there wasn’t much to do about it. He didn’t have any pins on hand, nor a needle and thread. So, that night, as he set up camp, he rediscovered the hole after a day of hunting out in Cumberland Forest. He frowned at it, and it stared back at him mockingly, letting in a draft of cool spring air.

Instead of thinking about it too much, Arthur relaxed in his tent, pulling out his journal. He’d hung his lantern off the support rod that ran across the ‘ceiling’ of the tent. While he was sketching away in his journal, he heard the telltale sound of a trotting horse approaching on the nearby trail. Not all that surprising, considering it’s one of the easier sideroads to follow.

A few moments passed, and then Arthur heard footsteps approaching. He looked up, bracing himself for a confrontation. Nothing happened. Not until a hand slipped through the hole, dropping something into Arthur’s tent. Money. Five dollars.

Following directly afterwards, a semi-erect cock slipped through.

Arthur stared at it with wide eyes. Then he looked down at the money. “Five dollars?” He scoffed incredulously. “Don’t waste my time, _cowboy_.”

There was an annoyed hiss on the other side of the tent. The cock disappeared. Another five dollars were thrown through the hole before the hole was occupied once again.

“That’s more like it.” It wasn’t the worst way he’s made money in his life, and ten dollars is still ten dollars.

Arthur slipped the money into his journal and set it aside, getting to his knees in front of the tear in the tent. He spit in one hand and lathered up the cock. The man was sensitive, reacting to each stroke with a slight rock of the hips, his cock jumping in anticipation when Arthur would pause to slick his hands up again. Arthur stroked and slicked it to a full mast. He was impressed at the size. It wasn’t anything to sniff at; it was long enough that he could wrap both hands one after the other from the base, and there was still about an inch and a bit of shaft before the head. Wide, too. Arthur would be nervous if the Goddamn thing was going anywhere but his mouth.

Reaching through what was left of the tear in the tent’s canvas, Arthur pulled the man’s balls through, too. Might as well. He hefted them in his palm before gently squeezing and massaging them. With his other hand, he traced the balls with his fingers. Every time his figure-8 movement made it back to the top of the scrotum, just under the base of the cock, Arthur ran his thumb up the bottom ridge to the head and massaged it with the pads of his fingers before running back down to the ballsack. The slow, deliberate movements left the man throbbing and pulsing in Arthur’s hands. If he was annoyed at Arthur’s speed, he certainly didn’t sound it

When he was satisfied with its rigidity, seeing it twitch with every slow movement, Arthur brought his mouth to the cock. He put his lips around the cockhead, massaging it with the tip of his tongue, gently sucking. He ran down one side with his tongue, then back up, and mirrored the movement on the other side. His tongue ran down the underneath of the cock, stopping at the balls. He licked and sucked at one, then the other, being sure to give them each equal attention. While he worked on the balls, he stroked slowly at the cock.

There was a muffled moan from the other side of the tent. Arthur moved away from the cock to speak. “Just so you know,” he started plainly, still working the cock slowly with his hands, “you ain’t comin’ in me. It’s either an extra ten for the face, or you waste it in the grass outside.” He waited a few seconds, hearing frantic movement. The dick pulled out again, and another ten dollars was flung through before the man desperately pushed himself back through the tear in the tent. Arthur gladly put the money with the rest. “Face it is, then, cowboy.”

Arthur brought his mouth to the cockhead again, spitting on and jerking the shaft, coating it. He ran his lips around the first inch or two of the shaft, giving it little flicks with his tongue as he moved. He stroked at the balls with his spare hand before finally taking a decent length of the cock into his mouth. He bobbed up and down, wrapping his tongue around as much as he could. After a minute or two of that, the man let out another moan. Arthur pushed the cock further into his mouth, trying to get to the base and hold himself there. Though he fought to keep himself lax, his throat constricted in the beginnings of a gag, his eyes starting to water.

From the other side of the canvas, the man wheezed out: “Oh, _Lord_ …” He sucked in a sharp breath when Arthur’s throat constricted again, which finally prompted him to pull off the cock. “What a Goddamn _mouth_ you have…”

Arthur chuckled as he took the man in his mouth again. He sucked and twisted and stroked, methodically moving up and down the shaft, making sure this person got their money’s worth. It was easy money, in Arthur’s opinion. When he could hear the man’s breathing grow shallow as he tried to control his own climax, Arthur increased his speed. He pumped at the base of the cock, occasionally pulling his mouth away to give the whole thing a few good strokes before putting his mouth back on it.

“Hellfire…” the man breathed, “… it’s comin’…”

At that, Arthur pulled his mouth off him and cupped his balls with one hand. He spit one last glob on the shaft before pumping at it hard and fast, keeping the cockhead not too far from his face. “C’mon, then, cowboy,” Arthur growled as he focused on maintaining a hard, fast stroke, “come on my Goddamn face.”

The balls Arthur massaged tensed up. He closed his mouth and eyes, holding himself ready. He heard a loud groan and a “Aah _ah_ -ah…!” followed by shot after shot of warm come. It stuck to Arthur’s forehead, his nose, dripped down his cheek, caught in his stubble. He worked the cock until the man was finished, and then let him go to wipe the jism from his eyelids.

Arthur opened his eyes to see another peering in at him from the tear in the canvas. Happy that he got what he paid for, the man tersely thanked Arthur and put himself together before getting out of the area. Arthur looked for a cloth to wipe his face off with, using a little bit of water from his flask to clear the residue. He tossed the cloth outside and looked back at the hole in the tent wall, the canvas around it still darkened with saliva.

Maybe he’d leave the tear as is for a little while longer.


End file.
